Creativity Challenge
by Probit Return
Summary: Short stories compiled into one easy place. Some of the guidelines were created by others.
1. Betrayal

Alright, this story came about as a result of a little creativity challenge created by Panzer IV, so credit goes to him.

Rules taken directly from his post:

_Write a short story/one shot fic using these as a start: _

_-She heard footsteps coming from outside  
-Until that day, it had rained hard...  
-Maybe because she was...  
-The gun explodes, sending...  
-He stood still, unmoved, knowing..._

_Rules are:  
1. Character must limit to 3 (no more, no less)  
2. At least each character must be from its respective anime (varying--Crossovers, so to say)  
3. The names of the character must NOT be mentioned; use only he, she, them, it, etc. (meaning, your description is what identify the character from which anime he/she come from)  
4. No OC allowed (for now)  
5. Most importantly, have fun!_

I do not own the rights to Gunslinger Girl. There that's out of the way.

* * *

Betrayal

He stood still, unmoving, knowing it was his last moment on the face of god's green earth. The girl in front of him gave off an evil aura, and the wicked smile on her face didn't help anything. "It wasn't what it looked like," was all he could manage to choke out.

"You know that I'm the only one for you," she cooed brushing a lock of brunette hair out of her eyes. "I've already taken care of her. Now there is nothing keeping us from being together."

He gasped, tears welling up in his eyes. "No!" The woman he loved was dead, by the hands of the girl he was supposed to care for no less. And after all the effort it took to warm her up too.

"We can be together forever." The girl reached behind her and pulled out a small pistol, a SIG P239, the gun he had given her. She aimed the gun at his forehead and smiled. "Forever."

He saw his life flash before his eyes. All of the events that led to this point in life, the happy times with his brother and sister, the vacations in Sicily, his work with the Carabinieri, his decision to take a job with the SWA, and finally, the moment that caused his downfall, the moment the girl discovered his secret love.

_He gazed longingly into her eyes. They captivated him, made him weak in the knees. "I love you."_

_"I love you too." Her short hair glistened in the last remains of the suns rays._

_He had succeeded. The one woman, the envy of every man in the agency's eyes, was his. He succeeded where many others had failed, his own brother included. He bent down slightly to kiss her._

_How did she know?_ he thought bitterly as the girl leered at him. "I'm sorry."

Her smile pierced his heart and a bullet pierced his skull. "I'll be joining you soon."


	2. Last Request

My second entry into the Creativity Challenge (Third Challenge). The rules stated by Panzerare as follows:

_Listen to this song:_ (Lux Aeterna by Clint Mansell)

_After listening to the song, write anything you feel about the song. It can be a poem, a play, or a one-shot/short story. Rules are:_

_1. At least an OC present (Let's see some OC into action, ne?)_

_2. A crossover with another anime/manga, movie, or video game must be included_

_3. A limit of 6 characters_

_4. Setting must take place in world's uncharted areas (plains of Africa, Jungles of Vietnam, etc.)_

_5. Character death must be present (limit to 3)_

* * *

Last Request

The humidity of the vast stretches of sand caused the air to distort as the sun hung overhead. Mirages, they were called. This god-forsaken land wasn't the best place to be caught in. Unfortunately, for two people, they didn't have much of a choice.

A group of terrorists had fled from Italy, and the pair, a fratello, as they were called by the group they worked for, was sent in to find and exterminate them. Progress was slow.

"Brother," the girl questioned, gazing over to the man she was travelling with, "didn't Intel say that the men were supposed to be here?" Here was referring to a bunker that had long been abandoned. The walls were falling down in some places and a layer of sand coated the floors. It was Hell on Earth.

"Yeah Adrie," the man named Antonio replied. "This was it. But it looks like they're gone now." The man sighed as they worked their way through the bunker. "Another wild goose chase."

It happened so suddenly. A group of armed men appeared from various doorways and around various corners. "Hah, and I thought the Social Welfare Agency was supposed to be ready for anything," the man in charge laughed. "Put your guns down and no one will get hurt."

Antonio frowned. "Do as he says Adrianna." He placed his own rifle on the ground.

Adrianna nodded, placing her Beretta AR70/90 on the ground in front of her.

The man growled. "You think I'm a fool? I know you have another weapon on you." Adrianna's handler nodded to her and she placed her MK23 next to the Beretta. "Kick them over. Don't try anything funny." Both of them did as they were told.

The leader of the terrorists started laughing maniacally. "You fools. This was easier then shooting fish in a barrel." He raised his pistol and pointed it at Antonio.

As the man pulled the trigger, Adrianna pushed her handler aside, the bullet hitting his shoulder. He tumbled to the ground as Adrianna threw a punch into a nearby terrorist's gut. The gun tumbled out of his hands and into hers.

In just a few seconds, the ambush had turned into chaos. Bullets were flying every direction, terrorists taking out their comrades in arms in an attempt to shoot the little girl as she dashed around the corridor, shooting anyone who moved.

Adrianna borrowed another AK from a dead terrorist as she continued her rampage. Soon enough, the terrorists were all dead. She slumped up against a wall in the corridor, her vision blurring. She hadn't made it out unscathed. "Bro-brother," she coughed.

He rushed over to her. "Don't talk. I'm here." He looked at the multiple bullet wounds she had received. Talking into his radio, he informed the Agency of the turn of events. "Adrianna is down. Send help immediately. It was an ambush."

Adrianna closed her eyes. "Are, are you safe?" she asked, worry evident in her voice.

Antonio nodded. "Yeah." It was a miracle. Every shot, with the exception of the first one, had missed him.

A smile appeared on her face. "Good." She started to cough again, this time, coughing up blood. She didn't even bother to wipe it up, not that she had the strength to. "Promise me... Promise me you will be happy."

"Wait. Hang in there. Help is almost here. You'll be fine Adrie."

She shook her head. "Don't worry. Everyone dies. It's just my time." She opened her eyes and looked into her handler's own eyes. "Just be happy." She looked behind her handler. "I'm coming."

Antonio turned around, not seeing anything. "What...?"

Adrianna stared ahead. "That woman, don't you see her?"

The woman stood patiently, her blue colored armor reflecting the light that was coming through the open parts of the ceiling. A sword was attached to her waist and she held her blue helm in her hands allowing her long silver hair to flow in the breeze. "Rest easy young one. Your trials are over for now."

Adrianna nodded and closed her eyes. "Goodbye... Brother." Her ragged breaths slowly came to a stop and she drifted off into the great beyond.

Tears came to Antonio's eyes. He hung his head low. "Goodbye Adrie," he whispered, a singular, pure white feather falling to a rest next to him. "Goodbye."


	3. View From the Other Side

Author's Note: Hey, I'm back. It's been far too long. That it has. This is a little one shot that I've wanted to write for a long while now. Well, something just told me to get it out. I figured this was as good a place as any to throw it in, and it doesn't need to waste any space creating a seperate story for it to exist all on it's lonesome. As I was writing it, I thought it would be a good idea to kinda tie it into Memories Upon Broken Glass also, so it'll give a little bit of insite into things there. It's also notable for being the first bit of First Person I've written in quite a while.

Anywho, hopefully, I'll have more up on Memories, Shades of Black, and Life After Death soon. So if you've been waiting for any of that and/or prepairing to string me up by my entrails for not uploading in a while, I hope that will make up for it.

* * *

View From the Other Side

Huff, I didn't want to do this. I wasn't a stupid guard dog, and this stupid bastard shouldn't have gone and blown up a friggin subway. I don't know how many people they'd said were dead, but it was a lot. Of course, he was an old friend, and he'd come to me directly. Sigh, you can't just turn down a friend who happens to be friends with your bosses. Well at least my wife and son, and my bakery, would be there waiting for me when this was all through.

He sat there with a smug look on his face. "Thanks for helping me. I'll be sure to return the favor. That son of yours is getting on hell of a trust fund." The other men in the room scoffed at his comment. "That goes for all of you. You will all be sitting pretty after this."

"It's no big deal. I watched your back all through school. I guess I'll never grow out of it. Somebody's gotta watch your sorry ass," I replied. We shared a laugh together as the men looked at us oddly. It's like the dumb bastards didn't know what friends were. Or maybe it was simply because we were joking around at such a serious time. Whatever it was, they were being real sticks in the mud.

As our laughter died down, my old pal looked at me seriously. "I have no idea when they'll come, or who they'll send, but this is serious. I just want you to know that."

I nodded solemnly. "I understand." I didn't like killing, but sometimes, it was necessary. This was one of those times. I knew I was gonna have to kill someone, probably cops. Besides, it's not like I haven't killed before. I worked for the Padania. It was the guilty detail we all shared. Some of us just didn't give a shit.

I frowned as I checked my AK again, just to be on the safe side. I felt like some kind of typical peon from the movies. Black gear and an AK, I could be a terrorist. Hah, yeah right. What I did was for the better of Italy. It was one fact that never left my mind. I was one of the good guys.

That didn't mean I didn't have times where I doubted myself though.

* * *

The old grandfather clock in the corner started its hourly ritual. It was 1 in the morning. I chugged down the rest of my coffee and left my cup on the table. That American singer/songwriter had said it best; the waiting is the hardest part. If we were lucky, they'd never come. We were, after all, in one of the safe houses. They're supposed to be, well, safe.

Unfortunately, God loved to throw me a curve ball every now and then. So when the outside guards didn't respond, we knew it was show time. All of us got our game faces on. This was gonna be bloody.

We could hear the bullets raining below now. Sounds like someone was having fun. One of the men below had decided to radio in. "Shit, what the hell is this?!" he yelled, sounding quite surprised. "They're using fucking k..."

And he was dead. Silence seeped from the very walls. "Using what?" one man spoke up tentatively. "What are they using?"

No one dared answer, but my buddy had a bewildered look on his face. "Shit," I muttered under my breath and pulled my old friend off to the side to have a little chat. We still had a little time before they got here. "You didn't set up that target did you? This is too calculated for police, and that guy sounded awfully surprised for any standard military group."

He hung his head low. "No," he responded. "It was an outside order. Something about how it would be to our benefit. He sounded American, went by the name Cooper."

That dumb bastard. This wasn't just about our plans to split Italy. This was Europol or Interpol big. "We'll finish this later. Right now, we need to get you out of here."

After making an announcement to the men, I hauled his ass out of the room and over to the stairwell. They were on the floor right below us. Getting out of this was gonna be tough, but with good timing and a little luck, we could pull this off. But first, I had to buy us some time.

I flew up the stairs faster then I'd ever run before. Considering I was pulling another person behind me, it was an incredible feat. I was starting to believe Lady Luck had shown down on me. Unfortunately, I had been wrong. I'd never even considered the possibility of one of them breaking off from the rest. And what I saw blew my mind.

She had been standing in front of me, an Uzi in her hands, looking no older then 10 or 12. Her black hair was cut short, and she was wearing a simple outfit, but there was no mistaking the look of killing intent on her face. "I've found the target," she spoke into a radio headset.

I was too shocked to do anything. I was expecting cops, or carabinieri or something. Not some tot with an Uzi. For Christ's sake, she looked the same age as my son!

Snapping out of my stupor, I turned and ran. There was no way I was fighting some kid. My buddy on the other hand, had given up and fallen to his knees. I didn't want to leave him, but he wasn't going anywhere.

I ran as fast as I could, but the hallway seemed to stretch on for eternity. A sharp pain ripped through my back, and I stopped in my tracks. She'd shot me! That wench had shot me! It took all of my strength to stay on my feet, but I'd managed to stay up and turn around to look her in the face. The very same face that held no emotion as she stared at me, like she was peering into my very soul and judging my life's actions. The AK slipped from my hands and clattered against the floor. My vision grew dim, and I fell to my knees. All I could manage as my life slipped away was a meek, "Why?"

* * *

Alternate Ending: The Nachtsider Ending

Alternate Ending inspired by Nachtsider. Thanks Nacht.

I flew up the stairs faster then I'd ever run before. Considering I was pulling another person behind me, it was an incredible feat. I vaguely noticed my buddy draw his pistol. I was starting to believe Lady Luck had shown down on me. Unfortunately, I had been wrong. I'd never even considered the possibility of one of them breaking off from the rest. And what I saw blew my mind.

She had been standing in front of me, an Uzi in her hands, looking no older then 10 or 12. Her black hair was cut short, and she was wearing a simple outfit, but there was no mistaking the look of killing intent on her face. "I've found the target," she spoke into a radio headset. By target, she must mean my friend here.

I was too shocked to do anything. I was expecting cops, or carabinieri or something. Not some tot with an Uzi. For Christ's sake, she looked the same age as my son! My friend on the other hand, had aimed his pistol and popped off a shot at the girl, something I could never bring myself to do. The bullet hit her square in the forehead and I cringed.

The girl, on the other hand, seemed to shrug off the shot to her forehead. Neither of us knew what to do, and our guns dropped to the floor. The girl simply stared. The very same face that held no emotion felt as if she were peering into my very soul and judging my life's actions. She aimed the gun and I could almost feel a pinprick on my forehead as she aimed. All I could manage was a meek, "Why?" as she pulled the trigger.


	4. Gunslinger Trap

_Author's Note:_ Greetings. I have returned for a new one shot, unrelated to any of my other stories. A strange story, for sure, but sometimes, I just get crazy ideas. I'm not even sure what inspired this. If you are looking forward to one of my other stories... I'm sorry to disappoint, but I've hit a bit of a creative block (Not so much Writer's Block, as trying to figure out good wording and such. It's harder than it looks). The ideas are there, the wording isn't. Unfortunately, I can't give you an ETA on any of them, so consider this an apology for the wait. And now on with the story.

* * *

Gunslinger Trap

I've been given a second chance at life. Why someone like myself would be given that opportunity, I'm not sure, but I'm not one to question Fate. Perhaps this is my chance to repent for the sins of my past life, or maybe this _is_ my Hell, I'm not sure. I've long since stopped caring.

The ones who saved me go by the name Social Welfare Agency. I'm not the first one they've saved, and I won't be the last, not if I have any say. If it weren't for them, I would be nothing more than a ghost of the past without anything to show for my existence. At least now I can make a mark on the world and take Italy by storm.

* * *

I took a deep, soothing breath as I waited. The mark was currently talking to a man, some mafia grunt, in a restaurant conducting business. The two laughed as they exchanged words, making small talk for the moment. I pulled up my sleeve and glanced at my watch while keeping an ear on their conversation. "And then I slapped that bitch right on the ass."

"What are they saying Luca?" my handler, Basilio Costa, asked me.

I sighed. "Just disgusting banter on sex," I replied hotly. "You'd think they'd learn to treat women with respect. Then again, they _are_ filthy criminals." I hated tailing marks with a passion. It was probably because I had to wade through all of this useless bull before I had a chance to put a round in their skull and end their pathetic existence once and for all.

"Sorry to make you listen to that, but on the off chance that they say something useful, I want to know." I nodded absently and continued to listen in.

It took all of 10 minutes of vile filth before they started to talk about anything useful. When I returned to the dorm, I would have to drown it all out with something. But for now, I paid great attention to the topic at hand.

"The shipment comes in tomorrow," the mark stated slyly. "10 AM, you know where to be. Remember, if this doesn't go swimmingly, Don Arbarelli will have my ass."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Don't worry; security at the club is always top notch. You can count on me Ernesto."

Ernesto nodded. "Good to hear. I'll see you tomorrow."

I cracked a smile. "Tomorrow morning at 10, a mafia owned club."

Basilio ruffled my already messy brown hair. "Good work kiddo. We can narrow that down pretty easily. Let's get you out of here to prepare."

Finally, a chance to kill something. I could feel a grin spread across my face already. Tomorrow was going to be fun.

* * *

To say my life at the Agency was easy would be false. In fact, my life was pretty damn hard. If I'm not killing, I'm learning how to solve for X, or learn French.

The other cyborgs are always talking about the things they do, like tea parties and playing their instruments. I just want to play soccer. Georgio once gave me a ball and told me to go at it, which I thoroughly enjoyed. It felt like a lifetime since I'd kicked a ball around. I suppose, in a way, it was. I wasn't the same me as I was before the incident. Or was I? I'm not quite sure. I've long since stopped caring.

* * *

I leaned against a wall in Section One's offices, waiting for Basilio to arrive and tell me what he had planned. It wasn't every day that I was called to Section One.

Off in the distance, I heard a couple of men snicker. "Hey, isn't that one of Section Two's dolls?"

"Yeah, but I get the feeling he'd perfer if you used the term 'action figure'. We wouldn't want to anger the lad now."

The first man slapped his leg and laughed. I narrowed my eyes but said nothing. I was used to the flak I received from others. "I thought the only used girls," he laughed. "I wasn't aware they were branching out."

"Keep talking assholes," I muttered under my breath. "We'll see how far you get."

"I thought you didn't let people like them get to you Luca," I heard from my left.

Startled, I spun to face Basilio, whom had just vacated a room. "Ah, Basilio, I'm sorry. I should have kept better composure." I bowed vigorously to him several times. "I should have known better."

He laughed lightly. "Don't worry about it. Those guys are jerks. Come on, we've been given a job."

* * *

The sounds of music filled my room as I lay in bed listening to an American instrumental band by the name of _Russian Circles,_ staring at the ceiling. The others insisted I should listen to something more refined, like classical, but I was never a big fan.

I had been given a room to myself, so there was no one to bug me. It was something of a blessing, and a curse, but I've long since stopped caring. The truth is, it was nice to have a place to get away to, all on my own.

I had already cleaned my guns, and I was prepared for tomorrow. All that was left was to wait, and of course, pick up something to eat later on at the mess hall. It wouldn't be advantageos to skip a meal before a mission. That's what Basilio had told me.

I had started dosing, but a soft knock roused me from my daze. I turned the music down as I rolled out of bed and shuffled to the door, opening it slowly.

Triela stood on the other side of the door, a warm smile on her face. "Good evening Luca," she greeted. "I was wondering if you had some free time. Perhaps you could join the rest of us for cake and tea."

I nodded absently, pressing stop on the remote before tossing it onto my bed. "Sure, why not."

* * *

"I'm open," I called as I ran down the field. "Pass me the ball!" Seeing my wave, my teammate kicked the ball to me, allowing me to advance up the field. Time was running out, and the score was tied. All we needed was one more goal to win.

The opposing team's defense was good, but I spotted a forward in prime position to score. Faking a kick toward the goal, I, instead, kicked it sideways to Zeke, who swiftly knocked it into the goal as time ran out.

"Great job Zeke!" I called, embracing him in a congratulatory hug.

He laughed and hugged me back. "Well I can't take all the credit. You did good too El."

"Oh stop. It was nothing. Honest." I felt my cheeks grow a little hot. "I didn't even score a single goal today."

"Nonsense, just because you didn't score doesn't mean you didn't help. Soccer is a team sport. One man can't win a game."

I nodded, a bright smile on my face. "Thanks Zeke."

* * *

Life before the Agency was something else. I'd always assumed I was happy, but thinking back, maybe I wasn't. Maybe I was confusing it with another emotion. Longing? Desire? I don't know anymore. I guess it isn't exactly important. It's not like I can see any of my old friends, even if I wanted to.

It's strange, remembering my past. I feel like two separate people, the me now, and the me before, and those two don't get along.

No, I don't have multiple personalities or anything like that. I just don't like associating with who I used to be. Why dwell on the past? That's my feelings anyway.

Maybe I've just stopped caring.

* * *

"Why did Section One give us a job?" I asked skeptically. "This seems strange."

Basilio shrugged. "A buddy of mine over in Section One requested us for the job. We're just helping out." Upon seeing my skeptical look, he laughed. "Don't worry, we are to be handsomely rewarded. And maybe I'll take you shopping for clothes."

I held my head low. "Please don't take me clothes shopping. It's embarrassing..."

"Ha, we'll see." I frowned, feeling my face heat up. This wasn't going to end well.

"So what does this job entail?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

"Raiding a mafia safe house. We're to be capturing a high profile Mafioso who goes by the name Dario Gregori. He's proved to be problematic in apprehending, so that's why they asked for us."

I nodded, allowing a dark smile to cross my face. "I see. When are we conducting this operation?"

"Tomorrow night. I want you to be prepared for it, so I'm taking you to the range for some extra practice. It's better to be safe than sorry."

* * *

Ernesto strode into the club with a bright smile. A large truck had arrived soon after; the shipment that had been discussed the previous day. I checked my G36K, making sure it was ready for when we made our move.

The truck backed up to the club, and the hatch slid open, revealing several large boxes; weapons. I had no idea how long they'd been smuggling the guns through the club, but it would end today. I would make sure of that.

On cue, I leapt from my cover and rushed them, spraying them with round after round. Rico was providing cover fire from a building across the way, mopping up any I missed. At the same time, Henrietta was attacking from the other side of the building.

When the shooting commenced, the men who had been carrying the crates rushed inside. The guards, on the other hand, took cover behind whatever they could and returned fire. A shot clipped my left arm, but I shrugged it off and kept firing. I wouldn't let them escape.

* * *

Dario Gregori was a careful man. He rarely left the confines of his home, and when he did, it was only to conduct business. He had two well armed guards with him at all times, and he, himself, was probably armed to the teeth as well.

At the moment, he was staying in a mafia safe house. As much as I wanted him dead, Section One and my handler wanted him alive. The good news was that all of those other bastards were fair game.

"Are you ready Luca?"

Without a word, I nodded. I was getting giddy. Restraining myself was going to be tough, but the old me had proven to be a pretty talented actor. At least, as far as school performances were concerned. Hell, I'd even gotten away with being the new me. I was pretty damn good if I must say so myself.

Basilio and I had been tasked with entering the safe house from the front, while Section One operatives covered the rear. Entering had proven to be fairly simple. My smaller frame allowed me to easily hide amongst the bushes out front and sneak up on the guard. After that, snapping his neck had been a simple task, allowing me to dump his body in the bushes and slip into the safe house.

Drawing my Walther, a PPK, I slipped down the halls silently. By now, I couldn't keep my lips from contorting into a dark smile.

* * *

I've been having nightmares. They keep me up at night. Perhaps I haven't completely removed myself from my past life. Perhaps these memories, the ones I pray would leave me be, are the only ones that won't let me go.

That face, that slick black hair, those piercing brown eyes... that sneering smile. I will never forget it, no matter how hard I try. It will haunt my dreams until the day I die... or the day I kill him.

* * *

With Rico's help, we were easily able to take care of the guards. With a speed that would have amazed the old me, I dashed to the door, ready to take care of everyone inside. I was hungry... I wanted their blood. I wanted to watch as their life slipped away.

Opening the door a sliver, I pulled the pin on a flashbang and tossed it through the crack. Seconds later, a bright flash lit the room, and I burst through the doorway, taking out the disoriented mafia bastards. A few managed to slip away into another room. I gave a hasty chase.

The next room was heavily fortified, gunmen lining up behind cover. Taking cover behind the doorframe, I wondered where Henrietta was, and if she was having trouble as well.

As if on cue, the gunfire stopped. Slipping my G36K through the doorway, I popped off a few rounds. There were no sounds of anyone hitting the ground. And here I was hoping they'd be dumb.

It was then that I heard it. The voice that haunts me to this very day. "Well, well, well, what do we have here? Very resourceful sweetheart, but I never pegged you to be the type to kill. Still quite the tomboy though." His sinister laugh cut straight through to the core of my being. "Not exactly the reunion I was hoping for, but it's good to see you, my darling Lucia."

* * *

...Perhaps I hold a personal grudge against the mafia. That man, who tried to kill me, Julius Arbarelli, is not my father. I will _never_ call that horrible man my father. He is as bad as Ernesto. No, he's worse.

If Ernesto is a womanizer, Julius is what he would wish to become. A playboy. A man with no strings. I've heard the story a million times. How my mother met him, was seduced by him, and how she ended up with me. Lucia Salvi. Oh, it wasn't supposed to happen, but it did. And as a result, I am now here.

I had met him exactly one time, when I was a little child, before he tried to whack me. My mother thought it would be a good idea to meet my "father", but I wanted no part of it. She had to drag me kicking and screaming.

The meeting was short-lived. I said exactly five words to him. "Hello, nice to meet you." Yeah, it was fun. Afterword, I remember hearing him tell my mother to never mention this to anyone ever gain. "Just drop it."

She didn't, and that's ehen the shit hit the fan.

I wish I could stop caring.

* * *

Dario, it turns out, was quite the coward. After I killed his guards, he couldn't even point his gun at me without his hands shaking wildly. Hell, the safety was still on. I let out a laugh as I advanced on him. "I'm serious. Back off dude! I'll fuck you up!" he warned.

I laughed even harder. "I'll let you in on a little secret," I told him. "You won't do anything to me." I paused, and in an afterthought, I added, "And I'm not a dude." I ripped the gun from his hands, tossing it to the floor. I held my Walther to his head. "Now give me one good reason not to paint the walls with your brains."

"Luca!" Basilio called. "Let him be. We aren't supposed to kill him." I couldn't retain my disappointment. I wanted to kill him. I wanted to kill every single memory of the Arbarelli family. Unfortunately, Section One had dibs on him first.

I lowered my Walther, and with the darkest glare I could muster, I spat, "You should feel lucky."

"You're dead!" he shot back. "Everyone you care about, dead! You've made enemies with the wrong family punk! The Don will freaking kill, you, dead!" Before I knew what was happening, my fist had already connected with his face, spinning him wildly to the ground.

* * *

I've always loved the crisp morning air. It's especially great after a nice workout, or a game of soccer with your friends. I think morning might be my favorite time of day.

"Great game El," Zeke congratulated me. "You were on fire."

"Thanks," I gasped, sucking down that beautiful substance my lungs so craved. "You were great too. You are always so amazing."

I thought I caught a twinge of pink on his cheeks, but I couldn't be sure. "You know El, I've been thinking... Would you like to... maybe go out sometime?" I was speechless. "Lucia?"

Caught off guard, I could only nod absently. It wasn't until later that night that the jubilation caught up with me.

* * *

I kicked open the door with such force that it was ripped off its hinges. There, in the middle of the room, surrounded by several Mafioso, was the man who had illegitimately helped in creating me. Julius Arbarelli, the man who was poised to become the next Don of the Arbarelli family.

I raised my G36K, putting him right in the center of the scope. His men all raised their guns at me, but Julius silenced them. "Lower your weapons. That's my daughter you're aiming at."

I narrowed my eyes, still keeping a lock on him. "You are not my father!" I growled. "You never were, and you never will be! And for everything you've done to me, to my mother, to Zeke, I _WILL_ kill you!"

I pulled on the trigger, emptying the entire magazine, but he'd anticipated my move, having taken cover. "Lucia, I'm sorry about all of that, but look at the woman you've become. Well, you could do well to wear a dress, but you still make me proud. Just look at all you've accomplished."

"SHUT UP!" I spat. "Lucia is dead! And you killed her!" I changed out for a fresh magazine. "And I'm going to kill you!"

I rushed toward his hiding spot, which threw his goons into a panic. Several of them started opening fire, but their aim was atrocious. Fortunately for me, Henrietta made a timely appearance, and along with her handler Jose, started firing upon the goons.

Meanwhile, I pushed toward Julius, killing anyone who dared fire upon me. "Lucia, Lucia, calm down. Let's talk about this, father to daughter. I promise to make it worth your while. Daddy really does love you."

"You. Are. Not. My. Father." It came out in a low hiss. I was sure he heard it over the gunfire too. I fired on the last guard in my path. A string of rounds ripped from the barrel, killing him. A click resounded as the last round exited the barrel. Tossing the Heckler & Koch rifle aside, I pulled out my Walther and stalked doward Julius.

"Think about what you are doing Lucia."

"I've dreamed of this moment since I became a cyborg. I know exactly what I'm doing." As I reached his hiding spot, he popped out, a large pistol in his hands.

Time seemed to slow as we fired at the same time. I felt a sting in my chest, but I refused to accept it. Not until I saw him die. I kept firing, feeling short of breath.

Finally, Julius dropped to the ground. I stared at his body for a while, allowing my gun to slip from my hands. Soon after, all I saw was black.

* * *

We were currently standing in a clothing store, a high quality one by the looks of it, and what was worse; it was a dress store. Basilio nudged me. "Go on kiddo, pick one out. I know you got a little worked up with the whole Dario Situation, but you still did a great job."

"Do I have to?" I whined. "I hate dresses."

My handler laughed. "Yes, because it would be good for you to wear more girly clothes. I don't like it when people go mistaking you for a boy."

"But I have no problem with it. I really don't need any girly clothes." The old me found them to be terribly uncomfortable. The new me just flat out hated them.

"It's either this, or I have you go clothes shopping with Allesandro and Petrushka."

"This is great," I replied hastily, causing Basilio to laugh.

"Perfect. You go pick out a few dresses that you like and remember that they need to pass the cuteness test," he stated, motioning to a lady who was currently helping other customers out. "While you do that, I'll go find you a suitable bra."

"No!" I exclaimed. "I don't need a bra! Seriously, the wrapping works just fine!" He didn't even listen to my pleas as he pushed me over to a wrack and went off to look at the bras.

I thumbed through the dresses, none in particular really standing out. "This sucks," I muttered.

After a few minutes, I noticed one dress that looked quite pretty, though it did look a bit short. It was slender and blue, the straps nothing more than thin cords. I felt a blush creep up on my cheeks and set it aside to try on later. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

* * *

I awoke in a daze. My head was pounding, and I flet nauseous. "Ooh, what happened?" I asked, my words slurring a little.

"You blacked out," Basilio responded from his spot next to my hospital bed. "The doctors fixed you up while you were out, so just take it easy for now."

I nodded slowly. It wasn't the first time I'd been injured on a mission. It was slightly discomforting to be wearing nothing but a hospital gown, but I was growing more used to it. Maybe it was because I started wearing dresses and skirts more often. I'm not quite sure.

I felt a strange sense of peace within me. Julius Arbarelli, the man who haunted my dreams, was now dead. Perhaps now I could sleep without worrying about nightmares. Perhaps now I could let go of my past.


End file.
